


It Will Come Back

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: Whumptober 2020 [14]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: All tags don't apply to all drabbles, Branding, Character Death, Dehydration, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Gen, Good Quynh | Noriko, Grief/Mourning, Heat Stroke, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Temporary Character Death, Trapped, Whump, whumptober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: “I know.” Nicolo reached up towards Yusuf, a supplicant on his knees before his king, and Yusuf was helpless to not give in, to take advantage of their small scrap of privacy to kiss him, pressing their foreheads together.[No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire]
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Lykon & Quynh | Noriko, Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Nicky | Nicolo di Genova & Quynh | Noriko, Nile Freeman/Quynh | Noriko
Series: Whumptober 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947016
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	It Will Come Back

“It’s just for one job.”

“I know.” Nicolo reached up towards Yusuf, a supplicant on his knees before his king, and Yusuf was helpless to not give in, to take advantage of their small scrap of privacy to kiss him, pressing their foreheads together.

“I trust you to do it,” Nicolo murmured when they parted for breath, and Yusuf kissed him again, unwilling to speak the words trapped in his throat.

The brand glowed white-hot in the fire, hissing as Yusuf picked it up. He moved quickly, pressing it to Nicolo’s shoulder, hearing his scream reverberate in his very soul.

* * *

Lykon woke surrounded by corpses. With a groan that felt like it bubbled up from his soul, he stumbled to his feet, sand clinging to his sweat-soaked skin. 

The sky was a brilliant blue, the kind that was captured in paintings, and the sun was painful, unrelenting and cruel. 

“Come on,” he muttered, lips cracked and bleeding, lightly nudging Quynh with his heel, the woman’s head lolling before she slowly stumbled back to her feet. 

“Where’s Andy?” She was dead, slumped to the sand and they both wordlessly began to drag her. Endless sand, endless death but they were together.

* * *

“I’ll be fine!”

Booker’s face was bloodless as he pushed frantically at Nile’s hands. “Go!”

“I can’t leave you here!” Her hands stuck and slipped on the burning metal, flames licking up the walls of the room as thick smoke filled her lungs. 

Booker’s hand caught on her elbow, yanking her down to where he was lying pinned. “I can’t watch you die. Please don’t make me.”

Nile swallowed back her screams, her pleas, and bent down beneath the choking smoke to kiss Booker, tasting the salt and iron on his lips. 

The door closing behind her felt like surrender.

* * *

Quynh stretched her legs out as far as they would go, loose shorts—a set worn yesterday by Nicky—hiked up to her hips, legs rolled up. Nile watched her, fascinated by the long lines of her limbs, her slow and deliberate movements. 

Her heart twisted in her chest as Quynh turned to look at her, a slow smile spreading over her face, dark and full of heat. 

“Such a pretty ghost.”

Worry turned her blood to ice as Quynh’s gaze slid away. Closer now, Nile could see the lack of sweat and the rapid shift of her chest. Something was wrong.

* * *

  
  


“Come on.”

Booker could smell Joe’s perfume beneath the smoke lying thick in the air, barely managing to draw a breath before coughing overwhelmed him. A grumble in his ear was all the warning he got before Joe picked him up, warm and solid.

“I’ll get trapped in burning buildings more often,” Booker gasped, words catching in his throat as he spoke. 

“I will carry you anytime you like,” Joe murmured, his look filling Booker’s stomach with heat that had nothing to do with the fire around them.

“I’ll take you up on that, with the time I have left.”

* * *

“What is it?”

Andromache felt her stomach twist, the previous slow languid warmth pooling down her spine turning sour as she felt Quynh’s fingers pass over the barely there scar resting high on her shoulder blade. 

The skin there was numb, but it was the first place she pressed desperate fingers to after she woke from the blow that stopped her heart for the very first time. Time had blurred the faces of her mother and sisters, but she remembered the way the brand sizzled, and the slice of her bloodstained knife through scarred skin.

“It’s nothing. An old wound.”

* * *

Nile rested her elbows on the kitchen table, wood worn smooth and curved to her shape, and stared into the small flickering flame of the candle. The years slipped by her like water, punctuated now by this single ritual. 

She mourned by remembering, her grief too deep to be covered by tears, and she stretched out a single trembling finger to the flame. She would heal quickly with too many deaths to count beneath her belt, but, for now, she took the pain with a hiss through gritted teeth.

“I miss you,” Nile whispered, the weight of her years settling.

* * *

  
  


Nicky’s head rested in the crook of Quynh’s neck, his bare skin sticky against her back as the heat washed around them. Blood ran from the swiftly healing wound on his temple, but his eyes remained closed. 

“Just a bit longer,” she whispered to him, bracing her shoulders to try and shield him once again. The hooded man’s steps were heavy, slow and deliberate, but his touch was almost delicate as he picked up the iron from the fire: glowing in the dim light.

“Move.”

Quynh raised her chin and glared at him, spitting expertly into one of his eyeholes.

* * *

  
  


The Crusader stumbled, falling to the ground. Yusuf paused, torn and hating himself for it, but he turned back to the man.

Nicolo had discarded his helmet several days ago, so Yusuf could see his sweat-darkened hair, the splash of freckles over his nose, but he was pale, eyes wandering beneath closed lids. 

His waterskin was almost full when Yusuf checked it, chewing on his lip as he thought. Some water cascaded over his hand as he cradled Nicolo to his chest, falling to the thirsty earth, but the other man managed to swallow some, groaning softly in muted pain.

* * *

Joe’s hands shook, knife wavering over his fingers before he gave in, slowly collapsing onto the floor. He pressed his fingers into the cold, unyielding marble of the countertop, forehead resting against the cupboard and waited for the tears to come.

He felt empty, scraped-out and hollow. How could he ever go on alone?

Smoke hissed into the air, oil spitting in the pan, but nothing mattered. His thumb shifted to press against his ring, remembering when Nicky had slipped in onto his finger as if it had happened yesterday. 

“I miss you,” Joe whispered to the silent, empty house.

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com) Requests are always welcome!


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